With Conrad Chandler’s rebel tour to Brasenose cancelled, Pacific lifted its ban on those intending to play in that game and was able to field a full-strength line-up against the satirist serfs of Lord Gnome.

That was until James Smith got his BDSM (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BDSM) dominatrix Maîtresse Françoise to call in a sickie for him as he was unable to satisfy her stringent requests and was being kept roped-up on her rack in his full-body, easy-access, red rubber gimp suit. Furthermore a suicidal fatman splashed himself across all fifteen tracks coming out of Paddington and brawny Aussie allrounder Shane ‘Happy’ Mundie was severely delayed.

Anyway, back in glorious Oxford the sun was sweating away despite his sun hat, putting everyone in whites in a batting disposition. In Pacific whites and a fetching pair of shorts, standing in for tardy, sturdy and Welsh captain Jim Davies, Peter ‘Tenacious P’ Hollman tossed up and lost, receiving a smiling ‘we’ll bat’ from the oppo capo.

Pacific’s grumbling fielders and even grumblinger bowlers took to the sward with much slip, slap and slop. Opening bowlers Davies and Haill beat the bat regularly, particularly the hapless Haill, who watched through teary eyes as countless edges missed the slips. The Gnomic batsmen enjoyed a concrete outfield, with even the faintest tickles meeting the boundary with ne’er a whiff of a chasing fielder. Eventually rebel leader Connie Chandler was beckoned and his grunting efforts eventually received reward with a tidy clip catch from Adrian Duthie to dislodge hard-hitting Dunthorne, momentarily lifting Chandler’s nebula of curses and grumbles.

Owlish Gnome veteran Lear was made to look all at sea, as ‘Pussycat’ Chandler lapped up his second victim leg before (reports that he and the Gnome’s veteran were later seen, hand in hand on the edge of the sand, dancing by the light of the moon – the moon, the moon, they danced by the light of the moon! – are unconfirmed). Then, as the Gnomes threatened and threatened again, dashing and crashing to the boundary and beyond, Pacific fielders were deliriously happy to see prodigal sunbather Mundie saunter up to the ground for 3pm, fresh from hanging around at Paddington and lazing in an air-conditioned Oxford Tube. He had barely taken to the field before the ball had been tossed into his BBQ-scarred fingers.

Mundie's Malinga-like action soon saw Lord Gnome’s butler (for a ‘lucky’, according to Connie C, 51), houseboy (for a confident 73) and valet all in his pocket (“boaawliing Shaaayynnne!!!”). He was chariging in like the bulls on his Pamplona 2003 memorial T-shirt. By the declaration only wisecracking Gnome Dunthorne remained impermeable to Mundie’s rain of terror for long enough to post a double-figured score.

Girding their hurdies for an attritional battle ahead, among the Pacific opening bats Hollman was heard muttering to himslef, reflecting on his recent bad run of form. Bad? Too right, this legendary Pacific swordsman has this season notched up just 43 runs in the longer form of the game this season, from seven innings. Highest score 10. Could this latter-day Canute reverse the rip current?

Could he fook.

Out second ball, caught and bowled for a duck. It will come good soon for this indomitable nurdler – I can feel it in me water!

Anyway, Adie Duthie, tie in waistband as per, fought on for a typically frustrating 32, dancing his way in and out of the bowlers’ eyelines, scooping and slapping the leather hither and thither. Wiehahn joined him momentarily and looked confident but he neglected to play at one that cut back in from Lord Gnome's young, white Ntini.

Pacific's Number 2 Boyo was then joined by the Chandler older brother, Dunky-Wunky.

Having not played cricket for almost a hundred years, or thereabouts, DC was slow off the mark.

Four balls later he began hoiking, chipping and casually driving his way to a rapid maiden Pacific half century. Duthie then was rent asunder as Makaya Clargo again speared it in from wide of the crease.

This brought the younger Chandler in to partner the heir to the Chanlder millions. But the noramlly brash Con was slightly cowed by big bruv’s dominance and was not his usual boundary-getting self. The brothers both departed in fairly quick succession, both caught going for a big thwack. Captain Boyo and his impressive middle then took his place in the now-gloomy middle.
He was soon joined in the middle by the ever-poetic Oli Haill, springing elegantly to the fray and there he delighted fielders, bowlers and passing punts with a dazzling array of square-cover-drives-off-the-back-foot, lofted punches and three fours in a row off his jocular namesake. Pacific may have even entertained thought of a win if Haill kept up his breathless attacking, but sadly he eventually succumbed as an eyes-to-the-sky heave left him stumped. A heart-wrenching sigh from the gathered throng punctured the tense silence...

But never fear, Mudie’s here!

But, no, our first innings bowling hero was easily removed first ball as he vainly attempted a maximum ofgf his first ball. Tsk! His feeble effort went straight down the fielder’s throat.

Yeah, cheers Shane.

Never fear, Aroon’s here! And, thank god, he managed what Shane had not and finshed the job, nurdling and glancing his way past the nine-strong slip cordon to his best score since he was at school, 18 not out, to help save Pacific’s day.

A draw.

Man of the match:
Duncan Chandler, impressive debut.

Packing the kit:
Shane Mundie, should have done better with the bat. Plus Kurt will enjoy this. (Reminder: buy Oli a pint Kurt, next time you see him...!)